


Ruto's Birthday Fic

by Emsiecat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, At least Bilbo thinks so, Bilbo is So Done, Concussions, Dwarves are too tall!, Fluff, M/M, Silly, Thorin is a Softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: An early birthday fic for the lovely Ruto!Now, we all remember Thorin’s stirring speech at Bag End, yes? Well the other day I was re-watching AUJ and realised just how tall Thorin is... a bit too tall for Bag End if that low archway just behind him in that scene is anything to go by. I got to wondering what might have happened if our dwarves had set that table back a bit further and Thorin hadn’t noticed, jumped to his feet to give his speech and... oops! Dwarf down!So, here’s the silliness that was born from that thought. It was supposed to be funnier, but kind of devolved into nonsensical fluff, sorry!(This story is Un-Beta'd, so please feel free to point out any glaringly obvious mistakes I have made, and I will correct them).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rutobuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rutobuka/gifts).



Smials were not built for dwarves, or wizards, or men-folk.

It was a fact as true as the sun rose in the east, the Brandywine was deep, and the sky was blue.

Bilbo pondered this sullenly as he chewed listlessly on the scone he had pocketed and aimed a sidelong glare at the rabble that now surrounded his dining room table. 

The very dining room table that had been unceremoniously shoved part way out into the hallway in order to accommodate everyone no less. 

Yes, these unexpected guests were all too _big_ for his liking. Big statures and frames, big loud voices, big personalities, and big unmannerly gestures. These dwarves (and one thrice cursed wizard) were simply too _big_ for this smial, and Bilbo wanted them gone as quickly as possible, thank you very much. 

After all, although Bilbo flattered himself a consummate host, there was only so much a fellow should be expected to put up with, and this really did take the biscuit… and the cake…, the ale, the fruits and vegetables, the pies, the cheeses…, and everything else in his pantries come to that!

 _At least this new dwarf has not thrown food, belched, or threatened Mother's crockery as of yet,_ thought Bilbo to himself as he turned his attention to the latecomer. Still, he _had_ proven himself most dismissive and rude upon entering Bilbo's home and for that, Bilbo was unwilling to be overly hospitable to him. 

Bilbo's frown deepened as he scowled at the newest dwarf's back. Leader of the Company or no, this Thorin was just as bad as any of his kin in Bilbo's opinion; even if he _was_ rather striking to look upon.   

Banishing such a flattering turn of thought with a snort and another fortifying mouthful of scone, Bilbo returned to his previous estimation that dwarves were all too big, _especially_ this one and the hulking great bald one. 

Why, the bald one had had to duck to walk through several of the archways in Bag End, and if he didn't end up braining himself throughout the course of the evening, Bilbo would consider it a minor miracle. 

And now he thought on it… Bilbo glanced up to see that the dwarves had rather foolishly pushed his dining room table so that the end Thorin was seated at was right under one of these very archways. 

Well, no matter. Thorin seemed a sensible enough sort and Bilbo was sure he would have a care when standing following his meal. 

Any further thoughts on dwarves and their ridiculous heights were chased from his mind as the deep timbre of Thorin's voice caught his attention or rather, one word in particular. 

"You're going on a quest?" 

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf answered him instead and Bilbo nodded, brushing his hands free of crumbs and reaching for a candle to bring to the table.

Bilbo leant over Thorin's shoulder, mindful of any dripping candle wax, in order to peer at an old map Gandalf had produced. 

"The Lonely Mountain." 

It was from this point on that things started to go downhill in Bilbo's opinion. It seemed the dwarves were quick to voice their thoughts, but less than willing to hear criticism from others in their party. It was not a particularly civilised gathering in Bilbo's experience. In fact, Bilbo was presently less concerned about the mention of a _dragon_ that they apparently planned to go and slay than he was with the mounting tension in the room. 

Things seemed to come to a head when one of the younger dwarves, Kíli if he remembered correctly, optimistically announced that Gandalf must have slain hundreds of dragons in the past. 

Bilbo did not even need to look at the wizard to gather that this was not true at all. 

As it was, this remark proved to be the catalyst that sparked all that transpired next. 

Gandalf seemed to cough on his pipe at the mere suggestion he might have killed so many fell creatures in his time, the fussy dwarf demanded Gandalf give them an actual number of successful kills, and then as a result a heated quarrel broke out between the assembled company. 

Bilbo did attempt to quell the argument, for all his voice was lost amongst the shouting, and it was just then as Bilbo was fearing a brawl in his home that Thorin decided to put the end to such foolishness himself. 

Well, Bilbo assumed he was going to anyway, for the stately dwarf never got a proper chance. 

Thorin had jumped to his feet with a shout on his lips… only to promptly crumple to the floor as his head connected with a painful sounding thud to the beam of the archway above his seat. 

There was a moment of silence in which Bilbo numbly thought that at least the arguing had stopped and then there was chaos. The two young brothers actually tried to clamber over the table in order to reach their uncle, both shouting their concern. A few less than appropriate words left Dwalin in a rush as he stood and rudely pushed passed Gandalf so he could see if Thorin was all right. Balin sternly ordered the others to remain in their seats whilst Óin, who was apparently a healer, stood as well and awkwardly crab-walked behind the chairs to get to the unconscious dwarf. 

Bilbo just fervently hoped their leader was still alive, that had been quite a bump to the head. 

The hobbit had darted forward and reached Thorin's side before anyone else had managed to reach him, crowded as it was, and dropped to his knees to assess the damage.

The dwarf was breathing, which was a blessing, and Bilbo breathed a little easier himself at seeing that at least, though he knew from books he had read that head wounds could be dangerous things. 

"Master Oakenshield?" Bilbo called to the dwarf, hands fluttering and unsure what to do just as Óin made his way over to them. 

"Budge up there, laddie, let's have a look at 'im."

"Yes, yes," Bilbo shuffled aside still on his knees. "Is there anything I can do?" 

Bilbo might not particularly like having these dwarves in his home, but he would never wish ill on any of them, and how awful would he feel if this Thorin fellow had suffered some horrible injury while visiting.  

Óin glanced up from his study of his patient, twisting his ear horn as he nodded briskly. "Aye, some hot water and clean cloth if you've any. He's caught the top of his head on the edge of the beam there. Only a small gash, but I'd best see to it." 

"Yes, right, of course." Bilbo pushed himself to his feet and flapped his hands at the rest of the dwarves who had ignored Balin and were now crowding around them. "For goodness sake, stop gawping the lot of you, you'll do no help like that." 

A little rude perhaps, but honestly, Óin did not require an audience. 

Gandalf coughed, a sound that seemed as if it was masking a snicker, and Bilbo shot him a stern look as he scurried by to the kitchen. Behind him, Bilbo heard Gandalf take his place at Thorin's side and start murmuring something in another language. 

Really, this was all Gandalf's fault in the first place. Bilbo thought a little uncharitably as he grabbed some clean cloths from a linen cupboard and then went to fill a bowl with hot water. Had the wizard not lied and brought this group of dwarves into his smial, Thorin would never have hit his head. 

Smials were not built for dwarves, or wizards, or men-folk. Bilbo resolved again. They would have been far better meeting in a building with taller ceilings like The Green Dragon. 

Not that he would have agreed to meet them there anyway of course, but still…

Bilbo returned in time to see Thorin beginning to stir, uttering a pained groan as Óin gingerly examined the wound on his scalp. 

Gandalf it seemed had pulled the dwarf back from his unconscious state with those words he had uttered. Thorin had not quite fully roused though, and now the wizard was once more seated at the dining table, finishing his smouldering pipe and keeping a close eye on proceedings in case he should be needed again.

Óin waved Bilbo over and the hobbit crouched once more beside the injured dwarf, handing the cloths and bowl of water to the healer.

"Stay beside him and try to wake him proper while I see to this cut will ye? Need to make sure he's still in his right mind when he comes to." 

"Didn't Gandalf-" 

"Put a bit o' magic on him. It will prevent any lasting effects from the bump to his head so we may still travel tomorrow, but he couldn't heal him completely."

"Healing magic is a tricky thing," Gandalf murmured from round the stem of his pipe. "I will confess the elves are perhaps more practiced in such things than I, but I can aid in certain circumstances. I could have woken him easily and put some healing in the cut instead, but then would not have had magic enough left to prevent any complications that might hinder your departure."

"Complications?" Bilbo's voice betrayed his concern and Gandalf hid a smile. 

"We dwarves do not injure easily, Master Baggins, and heal quicker than other races." Balin gave the hobbit's shoulder a reassuring pat as he returned from shooing off all but Fíli and Kíli, who still hovered nearby. "We have thicker skulls, in more ways than one" -here Balin sent the hobbit a jovial wink- "but we are not immune to all hurts and that sounded like quite a hard knock to Thorin's head. He would be hopping mad if concussion set in and delayed our journey by even a few hours."

"The healing I used should mean he feels right as rain on the morrow, though I imagine that cut will still sting. He might seem a little addled tonight though, and will require a decent night's sleep." Gandalf finished the explanation and set to tapping out the ashes of his pipe. 

"So Uncle will be fine?" Young Kíli had not taken his eyes off his uncle, and the fear for his health despite the assurances he had just received were evident in the way his brow furrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth. 

Fíli too was clearly fearful for his uncle's health, but it seemed the elder brother had more of a warrior's disposition to him. He remained quiet, though his face was far more solemn than Bilbo had seen him all night. They seemed too _young_ to be going on a quest such as this. What would they do if something more serious happened to their uncle? 

"He'll be well enough, once I stitch this bit here, bit deeper than the rest of the cut." Óin replied nonchalantly and Bilbo swallowed and looked away from him when he saw that the healer had produced a surgical needle and thread from his pack. 

He would rather not see that.

"Should we not move him somewhere more comfortable for this?" Bilbo asked. 

"Best just t' get it over n' done with. It's only a couple o' stitches, and then we can worry about making sure he has somewhere softer to rest." 

It was the needle that woke Thorin rather than Bilbo's gentle pats to the dwarf's shoulder, and the hobbit nearly fell back onto his behind in alarm as Thorin let out a sound akin to a snarl and made as if to reach blindly back behind him to strike Óin, clearly thinking he was being attacked.  

"None o' that now." Óin grumbled and nodded in gratitude to Bilbo who had kept his wits enough to grab Thorin's arm to prevent him either hitting Óin or doing himself further damage.

"Master Oakenshield- Thorin! That's enough Óin is just trying to help you." Bilbo huffed and sagged in relief as Thorin relaxed, stopped flailing, and finally opened his eyes.

Addled indeed, Bilbo thought incredulously as bleary eyes blinked up at him and the stoic dwarf actually _smiled_.

A very lovely smile it was too, soft and honest, and Bilbo blinked in surprise as he felt his own lips lift in response. 

"Hullo, good to see you awake again." Bilbo spoke companionably, knowing from personal experience that a kindly voice was always welcome when one was sick or injured.

Thorin winced and hissed as Óin finished another stitch, muttering something in gravelly tones that Bilbo could not understand. Khuzdûl, the hobbit suspected, and since Óin responded sharply in kind, Bilbo gathered whatever Thorin had said had been aimed at the healer and not him. 

A short exchange passed between the two, which was only stopped by Balin clearing his throat pointedly and reminding both Thorin and Óin that there was an outsider present and that so much Khuzdûl should not be spoken in front of him. 

"Apologies laddie, we mean no slight, but it is a secret language y'see," Balin finished with kindly look to Bilbo. 

"It's quite all right, Balin. I had read as much before." Bilbo assured. 

Thorin's attention returned to Bilbo as Óin finished the last stitch and made sure the area around the wound was properly cleaned. The injured dwarf smiled again now the sting of the needle had abated, though a touch of confusion clouded his gaze.

"Forgive me, I was just asking Óin why I had not been introduced to you before. I was unaware that we had a foreign visitor to the Blue Mountains. Did you come with the traders last week?" 

"Er…"

"That's not what he was bloody well sayin'" Óin groused, voice probably louder than he intended given his poor hearing.

Bilbo might have found this whole situation a little more amusing if he wasn't quite so troubled as to why Thorin seemed to think he was still in the Blue Mountains and apparently did not recall meeting Bilbo earlier this evening at all. Nor did Thorin seem at all anxious about why he was currently lying on the floor. Had something gone wrong with Gandalf's magic? There was 'a little addled' and then there was… well this! 

Thorin had not torn his gaze from Bilbo for even a moment, and that gentle smile had not ceased either. 

With a suddenness that caused Bilbo to squeak in alarm, the hobbit found Thorin's hand at the back of his neck and a light pressure there pulling him in. For one wild moment, the hobbit felt sure the dwarf was going to kiss him until he felt his forehead gently press against Thorins' in an act reminiscent of but far softer than the greeting Balin and Dwalin had shared earlier that evening. 

It must be a dwarven thing, Bilbo thought, and nearly frowned at the odd sense of disappointment at _not_ being swept into a kiss. It was the confusion of this entire evening that must be making him feel such odd things, he decided and pushed the errant emotion aside. 

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, at your service." 

Bilbo became painfully aware of how Thorin's nephews, so worried for their uncle's wellbeing before, seemed to be trying their best not to burst into laughter at the spectacle before them now. Bilbo could hear soft snickers and snorts escaping them. 

Swallowing thickly, Bilbo replied politely. "Bilbo Baggins at yours." Feeling sure that as soon as he said his name it may jolt Thorin's memory and he would remember who he is and where he was. 

Unfortunately, he did not, and though Thorin released the back of Bilbo's neck so the hobbit could sit up properly again, the dwarf actually reached out and caught hold of Bilbo's hand instead. "Are you staying with us long? It was remiss of me not to realise you were here so I should like to make amends for this." 

"Um…" Eloquence clearly failing him, Bilbo looked in panic first to Balin whose beard was twitching suspiciously, then to a grinning Gandalf, silently begging them to help. No such luck. 

"It's only temporary as Gandalf said; it'll all come back to him in time, Master Baggins." Óin shrugged as he packed away his medicines and gave Thorin's shoulder a pat before standing and offering Thorin his hand. "Need help to sit up there, lad?" 

Some semblance of lucidity returned to Thorin for a moment and he frowned as if trying to recall why he needed to sit up in the first place and why he was lying down to begin with. Apparently, he could not reach any conclusion as he simply let go of Bilbo's hand, ignored Óin's offer of aid, and pushed himself up on his elbows. He paused as he waited for his head to stop spinning, then sat up properly and blinked away the spots dancing in his vision. 

"Did I fall?"

"Bumped yer head then fell," Óin stated bluntly, shuffling forward to bend down and peer into Thorin's eyes. Nodding, clearly satisfied by what he saw, he straightened and stepped back again. 

Once more, Thorin's eyes settled on Bilbo. "My apologies again. Perhaps I could give you a tour if-"

Finally, Thorin seemed to take in his surroundings and frowned. "Where are we?" 

"My home, Master Oakenshield," Bilbo stated. "I'm afraid the bump to your head might have made you forget you are visiting me." 

Thorin's eyes darted about him, troubled for the first time since waking, but he seemed to recover quickly enough as he gave Bilbo another smile. "I am afraid I seem to have forgotten that, yes. You have a beautiful home, Bilbo." 

"Thank you, Master Oaken-" 

"Thorin, please." 

"Oh- well… thank you, Thorin." 

"Perhaps ye'd like to try standing sometime this evening." Óin's voice was dry, masking his own amusement at seeing his leader and the hobbit seated upon the tiled floor chattering away. 

"Ah, of course." Much as Óin had done, Thorin offered a hand to Bilbo so he could help him stand. Bilbo took it but shook his head in amusement. 

"Considering your injury, Thorin, I think perhaps it should be me helping you stand?" 

Still, the sentiment was chivalrous, sweet even, and Bilbo found himself thinking (as they staggered to their feet) that had Thorin acted like _this_ upon arriving in Bag End instead of calling him a grocer, Bilbo might have been in very real danger of hearing more about their quest and maybe even joining them if they had invited him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got Chapter Two and the Epilogue done in time, woohoo!
> 
> As with the last chapter, this is Un-Beta'd, so please feel free to let me know if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes, thanks!

It was decided that Thorin should be given the room next to Bilbo's for the night. Not only would this mean that Thorin would be in better comfort than if he had to share a room with others, but that Bilbo could be close by in case the dwarf took a turn for the worse.

Óin had suggested as much, and though Bilbo was rather befuddled over why Óin himself would not be a better candidate to keep an eye on Thorin (considering he was a healer), the hobbit did not argue.

There had been another moment of recollection for Thorin as he had spied Gandalf shortly after standing and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut in concentration as he mumbled about knowing he had spoken to the wizard about something of great import recently, but could not recall what.

Gandalf's eyes had twinkled kindly at the dwarf and he had assured Thorin that they could discuss such matters in the morning should he still feel confusion.

Thorin, biddable enough in this state and obviously feeling the worse for wear despite his protests, had merely inclined his head in assent and nearly stumbled for his troubles.

Fíli and Kíli, though they had found amusement in Thorin's actions thus far, were by his side instantly, offering their support and insisting their uncle go get some proper rest.

Thorin had grinned at the two, murmuring that they were 'dear, good lads' and allowed himself to be half dragged down the hallway, Óin and Bilbo not far behind.

Bilbo had directed them to the guest room and the two young dwarves had guided their uncle through the door and helped him remove his boots, surcoat, bracers, and brigandine before they helped settle him on the bed.

"I'm quite sure I don't need all this fuss," Thorin had huffed, but had been ignored for the most part.

"I rather think you do, considering the amount of times you've nearly fallen again. I've seen better balance in lads who've drunk their weight in ale!" Bilbo had replied tartly, and though others would probably frown upon speaking to such an important dwarf in that manner, Bilbo found that it only gained cheeky grins from Thorin's nephews and a soft whuff of surprised laughter from Thorin himself.

Finally, Fíli and Kíli had left, leaving only Thorin, Bilbo, and Óin. The healer had spent a little time checking Thorin over and asking him questions to try to ascertain how badly his memory had been affected by the knock to his head.

Eventually, Óin seemed satisfied and turned to leave himself, bidding Bilbo do the same so that his patient could rest, but Thorin requested Bilbo stay a moment more.

"I confess I do feel badly that we've clearly been introduced before now and I do not remember it," Thorin admitted quietly.

Óin snorted in the doorway and muttered something that sounded like 'probably won't want to remember it, it was a less than charming introduction', but did not insist on Bilbo leaving with him. He simply added in a louder voice, "No dallying, ye need plenty of sleep, Thorin. I'll soon know if you've been up half the night twittering away like a couple of daft birds rather than following my advice."

Bilbo's lips quirked at the paternal note in Óin's voice and Thorin assured the healer he only wished to speak with Bilbo a few minutes more, and then Óin was gone.

Bilbo supposed he should perhaps feel uneasy being in Thorin's company when he barely knew the dwarf and said dwarf was very confused. However, the hobbit found that he felt completely at ease and sat in the armchair beside the bed so that he could listen to what Thorin had to say.

It took the dwarf a few moments to collect his thoughts, his eyes a little unfocused as he gazed down at his hands twisting the bed sheets, but eventually Thorin lifted his gaze to Bilbo again and spoke.

"From what I can gather I have come to visit you with a number of my kin, and that we have already been introduced…" Bilbo nodded patiently and Thorin continued. "I cannot recall _why_ I have come to visit you though."

"Well there's no real need to worry. Gandalf says you will remember by tomorrow once his magic has done its work." Bilbo pulled a face and wiggled his fingers as if to portray magic, which had Thorin biting back a chuckle.

"Still, I would feel better knowing… Was I- forgive me, but was I courting you?"

"What!?"

Thorin's smile vanished at the shock in Bilbo's tone and he looked, oddly enough, a little forlorn. "I have offended you with this suggestion? My apologies, it was not my intention."

"Wha- no, nono, it's just er… I'm not _offended_ , just rather _surprised_ you would think that when- I- well actually I'm not entirely sure _why_ you all came to visit me. Gandalf mentioned something about an adventure to me this morning, and then the next thing I knew I had a smial full of dwarves. I was simply shocked by your suggestion because we have only met this evening and we hardly know one another at all."

There _had_ been all that odd questioning of which weapons Bilbo preferred and mentions of burglars when Thorin had first arrived, not to mention talks of quests and dragons before Thorin hit his head. However, since Bilbo was still unsure as to how any of this involved _him_ (though he was beginning to have a nasty feeling these dwarves may actually want _his_ help with _their_ dragon problem somehow), he could hardly see any reason to tell the dwarf about it and possibly confuse the both of them further.

"Ah, I see…" Thorin shifted awkwardly, seemingly embarrassed that he had asked something quite so absurd given the circumstances.

"Why- erm, why did you think courting first of all, if I may ask?" Bilbo's voice was small and a touch higher than normal, and a flush had darkened his cheeks.

Honestly, he shouldn't ask such personal things, but he was curious to know the reason, for there must be one. After all, who would ever assume they were courting a person they couldn't even remember? The hobbit wriggled his nose as he dashed away a few silly thoughts that crossed his mind and tried to look utterly calm as he awaited Thorin's reply.

Thorin seemed reluctant at first, but after a quick searching glance of Bilbo's face, he spoke. "You- you're rather fine you know. You seem to have a sharp wit and I feel there is probably a good deal of courage in you as well. You would be- well any dwarf would think you a good match, I am sure."

 _Well, that's quite a step up from grocer I must say_ , Bilbo thought to himself and actually grinned, quick and bright.

"That is very kind of you to say, but as we've only just met and I am still in the dark as to why you all came here in the first place, I think we had best wait until morning so we may both get some answers."

"Agreed." There was a blush high on Thorin's cheeks that reached all the way to his ears.

Bilbo felt rather endeared at seeing it and so felt compelled to reach out and give Thorin's hand a fond pat as he stood from the armchair.

"I should let you rest before Óin comes after me. I hope you feel better tomorrow, Thorin. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Bilbo."

Then, to Bilbo's surprise the dwarf lifted the hobbit's hand, which was still resting atop his own and slowly so Bilbo might pull away if he wished, brushed a gallant kiss to his knuckles.

"My thanks for your help."

"I- I hardly did much at all, but you're welcome." Bilbo was quite impressed he even managed to utter that much, and felt the breath quite leave his lungs as Thorin grinned, a tender and wondering expression stealing over his face as he wished the hobbit goodnight once more and released his hand.

Bilbo nodded and then quickly scurried from the room and into his own where he pressed his palms to burning cheeks. Oh dear, oh dear that really wasn't good at all!

Gandalf had said Thorin would be healed by morning and that he would remember everything again, and then the dwarves would be off on their quest.

If Thorin was healed, he would likely return to being the same haughty dwarf he had been before. He would surely be appalled by the way he had acted when injured …

Unless… perhaps in regaining his memories from earlier in the evening, these newer ones would be lost? Yes, that could be a possibility. In that case, Bilbo had no need to fear. Thorin would not remember speaking of courting and kissing his hand and that would be that.

Bilbo nodded to himself and got ready for bed, trying to ignore the small tug of disappointment he felt at the idea of Thorin _not_ remembering this and the dwarves leaving.

It would be many hours before Bilbo felt peace of mind enough to sleep, however.

 

* * *

 

Thorin woke with what seemed to be the beating of war drums inside his head. He opened his eyes and his vision swam, the room tilted, and Thorin feared for a moment that he might be sick.

He curled into himself, hands pressed to his temples and eyes screwed shut, only for the feeling to swell to an almost unbearable crescendo and then… disappear completely.

Releasing a shuddering breath and cautiously letting his eyelids flutter open; Thorin was met with the sight of a cosy room. Dawn was approaching if the lightening grey wash from behind the curtains was any indication, and the dwarf suddenly felt as if he had not slept so well in an age.

Where was he?

What had happened last night?

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Thorin kneaded his knuckles against his forehead and tried to concentrate and remember.

They had gone to meet Gandalf's burglar… Thorin had arrived last due to the meeting with the other dwarf lords and then he had become lost once he reached the Shire. All these dratted hobbit houses looked the same to him! He had found the right house eventually though, and arrived in time to hear his Company teasing their would-be burglar with a song…

He had met the hobbit… Bilbo, and had been… well a little dismissive of him, but he needed to _know_. He needed to know if the hobbit was loyal enough to follow them all the way to Erebor with such danger awaiting him at the end. Gandalf might believe in the little fellow, but Thorin refused to risk his Company and this quest on the whims of a wizard and if he had to be a bit harsh in order to discover Bilbo's true quality, then so be it.

He had eaten… the soup had been lovely, for all he would have liked to eat more and then…

Something had happened.

There had been an argument amongst his kin over the dragon? He thinks that was it.

It had been loud and Bilbo had been at his elbow trying to quieten them. He had stood to do so himself and-

Pain? Then nothing.

Thorin frowned, raising a hand to tentatively touch the top of his head where he remembered the pain had been, only to hiss as his fingers probed at a sewn wound there.

He must have hit his head on something and fallen unconscious.

A prickle of hot embarrassment warmed his cheeks momentarily at the idea of his fellow dwarves witnessing something so foolish, but Thorin pushed such minutiae aside in favour of trying to remember what had happened after he had hit his head.

Had he woken at all or just been patched up and placed here for the night?

No, he had certainly woken, he remembered…

He remembered…

A soft smile and a kindly voice…

He remembered Bilbo and properly appreciating just how well Bilbo suited his home, the comfort and beauty and warmth of both.

Thorin buried his head in his hands and groaned then.

He recalled greeting Bilbo as he would one of his own family, he recalled how they had talked and how Bilbo had offered the best guest room beside his for Thorin to use for the night.

He had asked Bilbo to stay a few minutes more after Óin had left and…

 _He will think me uncouth, a simple-minded fool._ Thorin lamented, unwilling to lift his head.

He could always blame the concussion for such transgressions (had he _actually_ _kissed_ the hobbit's hand!?), but to blame his injury completely would be a lie.

The hobbit was a comely creature, sweet mannered at first glance but there was a hint of fire about him that had Thorin intrigued. He had not allowed himself to be cowed by Thorin's kin, nor had he shied away from glaring at the wizard on numerous occasions throughout the evening. It was enough to catch Thorin's interest, and he wished there were someway he could get to know Bilbo better.

They were off on a dangerous quest this morning though, and for all Thorin would _like_ to get to know the hobbit better, such things simply could not be.

Thorin reluctantly left the bed and went to the washroom to check his head wound in the mirror above the basin there, and then wash his face.

Despite a small, cowardly corner of his mind hoping that they might leave before Bilbo even woke, in truth he knew the right thing to do was to apologise for his behaviour the night before.

Foregoing his armour and other trappings, Thorin stepped outside and went to knock on the door to Bilbo's bedroom, only to find the door already open and the hobbit nowhere to be seen. Thorin did not have to wonder where the hobbit had disappeared to for long however, as a quiet clattering of crockery and cutlery down the hall hinted that the hobbit was in the kitchen.

Deciding it was best not to prolong the inevitable, and hoping against hope that his Company still slept on so that he might apologise to the hobbit in private, Thorin made his way to the kitchen.

He was rather startled when he entered the room to find nobody there, only for the hobbit to sneak up behind him from a hitherto unseen pantry doorway and speak without preamble.

"You know, when you're not clomping about in boots, you're actually quite stealthy."

Thorin jumped and frowned as Bilbo hid a smile.

"How does your head feel this morning?"

"Better, much better, thank you." Thorin realised how stiff his manner seemed and felt a little guilty when the hobbits' smile vanished because of it.

"I'm glad to hear it; you had us all quite worried." Bilbo breezed passed the dwarf, his manner turning from cordial to cool in a heartbeat.

"It would take more than such a trifling wound to cause a dwarf any lasting harm, Master Baggins."

Thorin was sorely tempted to go knock his head against a wall a few times in penance no matter the consequences. He had come out here to apologise to Bilbo and perhaps gain a moment or two of his company alone to thank him for his hospitality. He had not intended to revert to his usual defensive, haughty nature as if dealing with someone he did not trust at all. Bilbo had earned a little of his trust at the very least for last night alone.

"Hm yes, Balin said as much." Bilbo had wandered over to a free work surface and begun slicing bread, purposefully not looking at Thorin and wielding the knife with a little more force than one would deem necessary.

The dwarf sighed, scrubbing a hand through his beard and realising he should make amends. He tried again, this time attempting to come across in a friendlier manner.

"I'm surprised you've any food left considering the amount my kin ate last night. I wished to apologise for that by the way. Gandalf had promised us supper, but he had not said that we could eat you out of house and home."

Bilbo paused and set aside his knife, turning to give Thorin an appraising look. Thorin was not sure what the hobbit was searching for when he looked at him so, but he seemed to find it, for his smile returned if a little hesitantly.

"It would take more than such a trifling party to cause a hobbit's pantry any lasting harm, Master Oakenshield."

Thorin's brows met his hairline and he fought to keep a straight face. "I see."

"There are a few things left that they overlooked. Enough for one breakfast at least; though I might have to go to the market to restock everything later." Bilbo elaborated and then added with a thoughtful expression. "Though, I'm not entirely sure if I'll be around later to go shopping anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Bilbo had been puttering about the kitchen as they talked, preparing this and that, presumably so that he and the Company could all have breakfast before they left later. The hobbit indicated for Thorin to sit and set a faintly steaming cup of tea before him, which Thorin took a grateful sip of before noticing the contract resting innocuously at the edge of the kitchen table.

Bilbo noted how the dwarf's eyes flicked to the ridiculously long parchment and took a seat opposite him with a cup of tea of his own.

"I couldn't sleep last night and wanted to make sure the place was tidy after your lot tromping around, but when I returned to the dining room it seems that I wasn't the only one awake. Balin was busily poring over that map Gandalf showed us after supper, and when I questioned him about it he showed me this" -Bilbo tapped the contract smartly with a forefinger- "He told me all about your quest and what it would entail. Needless to say I couldn't really sleep at all then!"

"Master Baggins-"

"You called me Bilbo last night; you may as well continue to do so." Bilbo's eyes flicked to his face again, assessing, searching.

He was trying to tell if he remembered.

"Bilbo." Thorin nodded his head respectfully. "I wished to apologise to you this morning for the way I acted after I was injured. If I caused you any offence, or seemed uncivilized in any way, I can only say that I am truly sorry for it."

Bilbo shook his head, his nose scrunching briefly, before he replied. "There is no need to apologise. You were actually rather charming you know."

Bold certainly, Thorin thought and took such a large gulp of his tea it nearly made him cough.

"-As for the contract," Thorin continued after collecting himself. "You need not feel obliged-"

"Last night, I probably would have refused to go with you," Bilbo mused, resting his chin in his palm as he watched Thorin steadily.

"It will be dangerous."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. Frightfully horrible sleeping conditions as well I'd imagine."

"I'm afraid there will not be many chances to stay at inns once we are beyond Bree."

"Meagre food-"

"The roads are not a place for those inexperienced in combat or survival."

"And smials are apparently not a place for those any taller than four and a half feet, but here we are."

"I am not trying to dissuade or imply you cannot but-"

"Oh no, you're just looking out for your Company, you'd not want anyone burdening you and putting you all in danger. I think perhaps Gandalf thinks a little too highly of me if this is what he had in mind."

"I'm beginning to see his praise might not be entirely unfounded."

"Hm, good, there's still some kindness and charm to you even when you're lucid then."

Thorin bristled, but the cheeky grin Bilbo sported made it difficult to do anything but grin in response.

"If you _do_ wish to join us, you'll need to pack quickly."

"Already done most of it, I couldn't sleep remember?"

"You seem strangely sure of yourself."

"I'm not, but someone needs to keep an eye on you all and make sure nobody else gets so foolishly injured."

Perhaps he was not quite as healed as he would like, for surely a comment such as this would normally offend the dwarf. Instead, he found himself dangerously near laughing at the hobbit's cheek.

"Well then, welcome Bilbo Baggins, to our Company."

Bilbo nodded, drinking the rest of his tea, and then standing to return to preparing breakfast for the rest of his guests.

"Is there anything I can do?" Thorin, prince or not, was not one to sit around while others did all the work and waited on him hand and foot. He had lived too long in exile to expect such things.

"I would be grateful of the help, if you're truly feeling better, seeing as there is so many of you to cook for." Bilbo smiled, and pointed towards the pantry where he told Thorin would find the mushrooms he needed.

Thorin assured the hobbit that he felt fine and left his seat to go do as the hobbit requested.

"Oh, and Thorin?" -Thorin paused and turned to see the hobbit grinning a little wickedly- "Mind your head on the doorway, yes?"


	3. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's the epilogue! VERY short, but hopefully ties up loose ends and is fluffy enough for all :3

_Three years later…_

The sound of a dull thud followed by Thorin cursing a blue streak had been a frequent occurrence during those first few weeks following their return to Bag End from Erebor. An occurrence that was now, thankfully, becoming less common. 

Bilbo was grateful, in part because it meant less bruises decorating his dwarf's forehead, but also because he was beginning to worry over just how many times his doorframes and archways could suffer encounters with a thick dwarven skull without incurring lasting damage. 

Following the Quest for Erebor, the gold-sickness, and the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin and his nephews had taken a long time to recuperate from their wounds. 

Bilbo had not left their side following the battle. How could he? Even after Thorin had apologised for all the perils Bilbo had faced and urged him to return home, Bilbo had stubbornly stayed put. Claiming that Thorin must have taken another knock to the head if he thought for one moment Bilbo would leave him, especially considering that Bilbo intended for them to court properly.

"And no more of this rushed on-the-road nonsense. We should do this well I think." 

Thorin had given him a tired, somewhat pained smile, and kissed the back of his hand just as he had done so many months ago in Bag End. 

It was only following Thorin's recuperation that he confessed he no longer had any desire to be king. 

It was a decision that shocked the other dwarf lords, but not Dáin, nor the Company, and Thorin's cousin was perfectly willing to take his place instead when Fíli and Kíli also revealed they too desired a different path in life. 

And though Dáin had claimed Thorin and Bilbo would forever have a place in Erebor. They had both decided that they would like to live somewhere quieter, at least for a few years. 

The Shire and Bag End just seemed like the best solution in the end, and Thorin had adapted to Shire living with far more enthusiasm than Bilbo had ever thought possible. 

He adopted the fashions happily, joined in with the celebrations, adored playing with the fauntlings who seemed to trail him like ducklings, enjoyed working as a blacksmith for Hobbiton, and even attempted to walk around barefoot on occasion much to Bilbo's amusement. 

Yes, smials were not built for dwarves, or wizards, or men-folk, but this one seemed to suit Thorin very well indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that after this change in the beginning of their relationship, Thorin and Bilbo would have gotten along a lot better during the first half of the quest than they did in canon. This change may also have helped during a few scrapes they had, but overall (apart from Everyone Lives of course), they basic storyline and events that happened would not have changed much :)


End file.
